


Records, Rhythm, and Rhymes

by uptheladder



Category: The Get Down (TV)
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-03 11:28:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8710849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uptheladder/pseuds/uptheladder
Summary: A bunch of oneshots based on various songs, about various ships and characters.





	1. Brown Skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like the summary says, this fic is just a bunch of oneshots based on songs, and I'll add more characters and ships as I add more chapters. This chapter features Yolanda x Mylene and is inspired by Brown Skin by India Arie. Enjoy!

_you know I love your[brown skin](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=12kMTnObZcM)…_

 

My eyes flutter open then quickly close, trying to hide from the seeking rays of the sun. I groan, turning away from the open blinds, and nearly roll over you. You don’t even move, though; you’re a heavy sleeper and can sleep through anything. Is it weird that I like that about you too? I can’t think of a thing I don’t like. Even you drooling on my pillow is adorable. I can’t find a flaw even as you listed them to me yesterday.

Now I’m pissed all over again thinking about the asshole that had you banging at my front door and holding back tears yesterday afternoon. I still can’t believe he said all those horrible things about you because you turned him down. It disappoints me knowing that I couldn’t offer you more than encouraging words and hugs. I want you to _truly_ believe in your own beauty. I seen your eyes questioning me—even though you tried to hide the doubt with a smile—when I countered his false claims. Yolanda, how can I make you see your gap, hair, and brown skin are beautiful? But I get it; he isn’t the first person to talk about how you look. Eventually, it becomes hard to hear over the lies, so I promise to speak more louder and frequently. You deserve to know how beautiful you are. Even now, with your fro dented in and dried drool on your cheek, you are absolutely gorgeous. So is your soft, brown skin glowing under the sunlight from the window. It’s radiant, illuminating, and inviting, like God took the time to sprinkle in specks of gold when he made you. Your skin is divinely blessed, nothing to be ashamed of.

You stir and I freeze, hoping that my open staring doesn’t wake you. I like this free time to look at you while sorting out my feelings; I can’t face them when you’re conscious. You make me nervous and you fog my thoughts. You make me second-guess myself. Am I smiling too hard when you say my name? Am I laughing too hard when you make a joke? What do I look like when you dance up on me at parties and stuff? Internally, I’m in between freaking out and trying to treasure the feeling of you so close to me. I wish I could tell you these things…but I’m afraid of pushing you away. I don’t think I could lose our friendship. And I’m still unsure about the whole liking girls thing. It’s just this one really amazing and beautiful girl. Does that really count? Maybe I should talk to Zeke about this stuff since him and Shao are “figuring stuff out.”

It’s weird to see where we are now. We’re still best friends, but it’s weird for us to not chase each other. The back and forth between us had become a habit. Dizzee says once our relationship dynamic changes, it won’t be so awkward between us. Speaking of Dizzee…I should talk to him too. Although you have a close bond with all her brothers, you and Dizz are tighter. He has to know if there is any possibility of you liking me too.

You stir again, but this time you snuggle closer to me, and drape an arm around my waist. I lie still, waiting for you to realize your mistake. Instead, you sigh contently while my heart beats rapidly. Your face is now mere inches from mine, and your body’s so close I can feel its heat. There’s something very vulnerable about the position you’ve boxed me in. Maybe it’s because I feel like I can’t escape, but do I really want to? I can’t find anything wrong with being this close to you. I find comfort in drawing lazy circles on the arm draped across me, I find excitement in knowing the number of moles you have on your face. There are seven. The one on your nose is off-centered and the rest are sprinkled across your cheeks. And now I can really appreciate how long and thick your eyelashes are. They frame and highlight your big, expressive eyes that I always find myself lost in.

Now I’m lost in the warm undertones of your rich brown skin. How does God know which parts of the earth to choose when he makes us? I wonder where He handpicked the red-brown clay, the rich, fertile soil, the specks of gold, and which ocean He chose to mix all that together to make you. Where is your genesis? Suddenly, inspiration hits me like a ton of bricks. I sit up quickly, then wince once I realize I might’ve woken you up, but once again, you’re unfazed. I let out a sigh of relief then I retrieve my lyric notebook from my nightstand drawer. Flipping to a blank page, I write down the inspiration you’ve given me.

 

_Where are your people from?_

_Maybe Mississippi or an Island_

_Apparently, your skin has been kissed by the sun_

_You make me wanna Hershey kiss your licorice_

_Every time I see your lips, it makes me think of honey-coated chocolate_

_Your kisses would be worth more than gold to me_

_I’ll be your almond joy, you’ll be my sugar baby_

 

As I reread the words, I can’t fight the blush that appears across my checks and transcends to the pit of my stomach. There’s also the calming sense of relief. It’s finally out there in the universe. It’s no longer intangible thoughts, but a real, solid feeling that has been written down and acknowledged. I really like you, Yolanda Nicole Kipling. …Yo, I can’t believe I just scribbled that on the margins of the page like I’m in middle school or something. I definitely _feel_ like a school girl, all silly and giddy. Giggling, I look over at you still peacefully sleeping, and in an instant, my excitement calms to serenity. That feeling sets the tone to the tune in my head. It starts off as a soft, slow hum, then I start incorporating the words I wrote.

“Where are your people from? Maybe Mississippi or an island. Apparently, your skin has been kissed by the sun…” I pause to run my fingertips over the patch of illuminated skin on your arm. The sunlight has warmed the spot, and the friction I create adds more warmth. I write the words I’m not sure I can say out loud, letter by letter. Childishly, I hope you will feel these words without me saying them. _I like you, like you. I don’t know when it happened. It seems like it came outta nowhere. But I do know why I like you. You’re sweet, kind, and really funny. Plus you’re smart, talented, hella cool and a long list of other things. Your beauty is just an added bonus_.

“Like I told you yesterday, you’re the prettiest girl I know, Yolanda. Inside and out.” A small smile spreads across my lips as I start to absentmindedly drag my fingertips along your skin again. I make random shapes and hum along to the tune I created earlier, writing down extra words with you leading my inspiration.

 

_Skin so brown, lips so round, baby how can I be down?_

 

I read over the sentence and the skin so brown part sticks out to me. As I’ve been doing, I look to you for inspiration and find it drawing lazy circles on the soft skin of your elbow. “Brown skin, up against my brown skin. I can’t tell where yours begin, I can’t tell where mine ends. Brown skin. You know I love your brown skin. Need some every now and then. Hey, hey, hey, hey.” Opening my eyes, I’m startled to see you staring back at me. “Shit, Yolanda!” I screech, holding my wildly beating heart. “You scared the shit outta me.”

She somehow giggles between a yawning stretch, and it sorta sounds like a hiccup. “My bad, Mylene. I ain’t mean to scare you.” She sits up, facing me with a half smile that says “I’m sorry.”

“I should be the one apologizing; I woke you up with my singing. I didn’t realize I was so loud.”

“There’s no better way to wake up, honestly,” you say with the softest smile and that twinkle in your eyes.

My face heats up and it has nothing to with the sun still shining brightly through my window. Looking down at the notebook in my lap, I try to hide my blush. See what I mean? You make me all shy and nervous, and that is so unlike me. I’m confident and I go for what I want…but I just can’t seem to go after you. Then unexpectedly, you grab my chin, pulling it up until your eyes meet mine. Your lips still possess that same smile as you ask, “was that song for me?”

“Yeah…” I respond breathlessly, like I’m in a trance or something. See what I mean?! I don’t know how to act or feel around you anymore, and it’s starting to drive me crazy. And you touching me and looking at me like that is not helping.

“Can you sing it for me?”

“Yeah, I’d love to.” Simultaneously, our lips spread wide and we seem to naturally scoot closer to one another. Your crossed legs touch mine, and you have your elbows on your knees, and your chin rests on your hands as you wait attentively. I giggle because you look like a kid getting ready to hear a scary story. God, you’re so adorable.

“C’mon, goofy, sing it already!”

“Okay, okay,” I say through a laugh. See, didn’t I tell you? You make me silly and giddy. “So I know we talked and stuff last night, but I wrote this because I never want you to forget it. So every time you feelin’ down about your looks, just remember these words, okay?” You nod eagerly, and I hope I don’t let you down, I hope these lyrics will be enough to uplift you. I shake away my doubts then clear my throat.

“Brown skin. You know I love your brown skin. I can’t tell where yours begin, I can’t tell where my ends. Brown skin, up against my brown skin. Need some every now and then. Ooooh, hey, hey, hey, heeey.” When I open my eyes this time, you attack me with a hug that topples us over and now you’re on top of me. My heart wants to leap from my chest and my stomach hoards anxious butterflies. You’re so close that I could kiss you and blame it on a shiver running down my spine. And dios mío, why do you keep looking at me like that, Yolanda?!

“I’m sorry,” you say as you lift up off of me. I’m a bit dazed and missing the brief warmth you gave. “I just got too excited.” You give me your hand to help sit me up right. “That was really beautiful, Mylene, and it was so sweet of you to write that for me, so…” you pauses to give me a soft peek on the cheek, “thank you.” You pull away, just looking at me like you didn’t just transport me to the moon with your lips. “You’re not gonna—ow!” You fidget before pulling my notebook from under you and I freeze as my mind runs a mile a minute.

 _You’re gonna figure it out! And the “I like Yolanda Nicole Kipling” scribbled on the paper will surely give me away. Do something, stupid!_ I yell at myself, and when my body finally decides to respond, it’s too late.

“Is this apart of the song too?” I stay silent, trying to read you first, but your face is blank. God, I hope I haven’t pushed you away.

“Yes.” There’s no turning back now.

Your big smile brings me the biggest relief. “I really like it, and I really like you too, Mylene Isabel Cruz.”

“Wait, what?”

“You heard me, Mylene,” you say with a stern face that softens soon after. “I like you too.” Okay, so I lied about your smile being the biggest relief, because nothing can top the one you’re giving me now. It’s so big and bright, it takes up your whole face. I’m positive that my face matches yours because I feel how you look: happy, giddy, and in love. …Love? Before I can question it any further, you surprise me yet again, and kiss me. ON THE LIPS!

“Was that worth more than gold?” You ask, your voice low and seducing, just like your brown eyes right now.

“Hell yeah,” I answer breathlessly, ~~wanting~~ needing more.

All you do is giggle, and once again you’re acting like you haven’t turned my world upside down. You hand me the notebook then wrap an arm around my waist as you lie your head on my chest. You look up at me with those beautiful eyes. “Can you sing it to me again? With that part too?”

Smiling, I wrap an arm around your waist too. “Yeah, I’d love to.”

 

 


	2. Apple Cherry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shao x Zeke oneshot based on the song Apple Cherry by NAO.

_Tell me what you're thinking_  
_Could I help decide?_  
_With[apple cherry](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2xLnC__jQPg) kisses _  
_Do your lips read mine?_

 

Shaolin waits with bated breath, so many thoughts and emotions running through him as he looks at Zeke’s blank face. After a second too long, the teen distances himself, but it’s not enough space between them. Shao wants to be on the other side of the earth, not on the opposite end of the couch. There’s not enough space between them to hide from the rejection, not enough space to yell at himself for being so stupid.

 

  
_Why did I open my big ass mouth?_ he chastises himself.

 

But the truth is, the words he blurted out refused to be contained. They tickled the back of his throat for so long, itching to be released, until finally, the words spilled out. In Shao’s defense, Zeke had just gushed over a picture he drew of him, praising the young artist for his skills. Then, like a scene from one of those stupid romance movies, Zeke turned to him with the softest eyes and brightest smile, and time slowed down, and the words came out before he could stop them.

 

_“I think I love you.”_

 

The five words came out so naturally, but now he’s unnerved by Zeke’s silence and unresponsiveness. As he hesitantly looks towards his friend, he wonders if he should wake up the dazed boy with true love’s kiss…like in all the fairytales. Maybe he’ll come to his senses then.

 

Or maybe he’ll slap the shit out of you, he nixes the kiss idea with a frown before glancing at a still-dazed Zeke. Frustrated, his words escape him before he can stop himself.

 

“Shit, Books, say something.” Once again, his unfiltered words leave him anxious. His heart beats wildly in anticipation of Zeke’s words, and his breath quickens.

 

The stunned teen finally breaks from his trance, and looks over at his friend. The confession was unexpected, hitting him like a ton of bricks. It made him speechless, motionless as he became a prisoner of his own mind thoughts. Shao had confirmed affirmed his complicated feelings. All the moments they shared, were not his imagination. All that was real, and Shao apparently felt it too. Despite the exciting revelation, Zeke couldn’t shake the knots forming in his stomach. What does this mean? It ain’t it right to feel this way, right? But who taught him that? Who told him it was wrong to like another guy? Cause the way he feels towards Shao is anything but wrong. Shao fills him with joy. He makes him wanna write countless poems where each line is a deceleration of his love. Shaolin makes him smile. And that’s exactly what he does when he finally looks over at his friend.

 

“I think,” he pauses, and Shao waits anxiously but it dissipates when he sees Ezekiel’s bright smile. “I love you too.”

 


	3. Inhale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is largely based on this fan art http://mavoorik.tumblr.com/post/151558210339/based-on-a-prompt-by-bizeke. The song is Inhale by August Alsina.

_Baby take it in slow, don’t rush you don’t wanna choke_  
_I know you say that it’s your first time, but I wanna see how far this goes_  
_Let it fill you, hold it in, take it down_  
_…so baby, inhale…_

 

“Yo, that’s the coolest shit,” Zeke exclaims as the last bit of weed smoke disappears from the air. Shao was showing him all of his tricks. That last one was a lot more intricate than simple O’s.

“Yeah? You wanna try this next trick with me?”

“What is it?”

“It’s called a shotgun. C’mere.” Zeke apprehensively scoots closer to Shao until their knees touch. “Tiffany taught me this one.”

“Who is that? One of ya li’l girlfriends who keep all your exclusive sneaks?”

Shao shrugs smoothly, a smirk on his face. “If you wanna call her that,” he taunts and Zeke’s eyes flash green. He chuckles before licking his lips. The jealousy is gone and Zeke becomes enamored by the way his plump, brown lips glisten. “Iight, so all you gotta do is breathe in the smoke with your mouth.” Zeke’s eyebrows knit together in slight confusion and concentration. “Chill, Books, it ain’t rocket science. If you don’t get the hang of it the first go round, we can keep practicing.” Zeke can see the mischief sparkling in his eyes, and the teen can’t help wondering what Shaolin has up his sleeve. He takes a slow, deep drag of the weed, holding the smoke inside his mouth, before motioning Zeke closer with two fingers. Zeke leans closer and Shao gently grabs his chin, angling it just perfectly. Zeke is so caught up in Shao’s puckered lips that he forgets to breathe in the line of thick smoke hitting his own lips.

“Damn, my bad,” he apologizes as the smoke dissipates in front of their faces.

“Nah, you good, B. Practice makes perfect, right?” Zeke isn’t sure if it’s the haze from the smoke that makes him disoriented. Or maybe it’s the puffs he took earlier. Or maybe it’s the way the weed made Shaolin’s voice deeper and raspier, and his eyes glossy and low, that made Books feel so lightheaded. Whatever the cause for his rapidly beating heart and sweaty palms, he wishes for something to ease it. “We gonna try it again. You ready?” Shao’s anxious as well, itching for the same ease Zeke is wishing for. He swallows the lump in his throat then nods. He takes another pull of the blunt before blowing it out into Zeke’s awaiting mouth. Zeke feels a rush to his head, but once again he isn’t sure if it’s the weed or their closeness. He lifts his head to blow out excess smoke just as Shao goes in for a kiss. His lips land on Zeke’s chin instead, and he immediately withdraws them, wanting to disappear under the wave of horror and embarrassment.

“Wow,” is all Zeke says and Shaolin truly wants to punch himself.

 _Way to go, dumb ass. Real fucking smooth._ “I’m sorry, Books, I shouldn’t have pushed up on you like that. Just forget it even happened,” he rushes out his apology.

“But we gotta practice till we perfect, right?” Zeke takes the blunt from Shao’s hand and takes a pull. He takes one side of Shao’s face into his hand, until their lips were just an inch apart, then he blows out the smoke. Shao inhales, unsure of how he was able to while Zeke’s touch took his breath away. They stare at one another, frozen. “Can I kiss you?” His voice is so low and deep and their lips graze as he speaks. This causes a shiver to travel through Shaolin.

“That’s all I ever wanted.” Finally, for the first time, their lips softly and fully come together.


End file.
